Wrong Number | Corbyn Besson✔

24 | Real Life

a/n 'Kayce' is pronounced like case.

6 months later*

kaycee
"I'm going to throw up and trip and fall on my face." I panicked as I sat in the cafeteria.

"Kayce, you'll be fine. You won't fall or throw up or trip or fall on your face." Corbyn assured as he rubbed my knuckles with his thumb. I leaned my head onto his shoulder, knowing that he was most likely right.

"Why are you always right?"

"Because I'm older than you," he spoke, making me sit back up.

"Excuse me, you're only older by a year!" I corrected.

"eXcUsE mE, yOu'Re OnLy OlDeR bY a YeAr!" He mocked, making me punch his shoulder. Serves him right for mocking me.

"Ow, you punch hard." He whined, rubbing his shoulder.

"Aw, do you want me to kiss it better?" I asked, making him nod. He turned his head towards me and I gave him a quick peck on his lips.

"You're an asshole by the way," I told him, referring to this morning when I woke up with hickies on my neck and spending an hour covering them. He grinned, knowing exactly what I was talking about.

"You love me."

"That I do." I smiled.

****

"Kaycee Durden." The principal spoke into the microphone that was attached to the podium he stood at. I stood up, walking towards where he was standing, shaking his hand as he handed me my diploma. I walked down the line, shaking hands with the rest of the staff that stood there. I made my way back to my spot on the risers, sitting back down onto my chair. The slideshow began playing on the screen in back of us, mainly of me sassing teachers and acting like a crackhead.

"You may stand."

Oh boy.

I actually did it.

I didn't drop out or fail.

How did I even pass?

"You may move your tassel to the right." He spoke, making everyone, including me move my tassel to the right side of my cap.

"Congrats to class of 2018!"

This was it. I threw my cap up into the air, letting it drop on the ground. I picked up the cap with the photos of the boys and I, the boys' sisters, and my family.

Once I saw everyone walking off of the bleachers, we walked out of the school and separating into the five cars we took. I sat in between my grandmother and Corbyn. I took out my phone, and began to film myself.

"I'm going to go home, most likely nap because I'm fucking exhausted, then have an after party with my family and friends." I spoke, making sure to remember to censor the curse words while editing.

****

"Can you carry me upstairs? My legs have failed me." I asked Corbyn, who sighed before carrying me bridal style up the stairs.

"You are so over dramatic."

"That I am." I admitted as he shut the door with his leg behind me. I jumped out of his arms and grabbed a pair of black compression shorts, along with Corbyn's black Why Don't We hoodie that had the dates to the invitation tour from a while back.

"Hey Corbyn? Can you please unzip my dress? I can't reach the zipper." I asked, making him get up from my bed and walk to the mirror I was standing in front of. He placed his cold hand onto my shoulder, whilst slowly unzipping my dress with the other.

"T-thank you."

"Your welcome Kayce."

*edited 5/4/20